Dress Up
by Qualapec the She-Wolf
Summary: Molly plays dress up. Because we all know the duster is the coolest part of the outfit.


Disclaimer: I do not own Dresden Files or anything else that anybody in the universe could sue me for. I own nothing.

AN: I decided to post this because it's really my first attempt at writing something funny. I wanted to see how a fandom so used to the cunning wit of Jim Butcher reacts to my humble attempts. Do let me know what you think!

Dress Up

Molly Carpenter liked the weight of the duster on her shoulders, but the rough leather on the inside rubbed against her skin. Not wholly irritating, however it was the kind of chaffing that Molly knew would rub her shoulders raw if she wore it for too long. The coat smelled like an odd combination of smoke, magic, troll, scented candles (she'd seen Luccio rubbing some of Harry's candles on it to improve the troll smell), gasoline, and more smoke. It was far too big for her, and the lower foot worth's or so of leather drooped on the ground.

Still, she wished he had a full-length mirror in his apartment. She imagined she looked pretty freakin' cool. Maybe a disposable camera would work long enough around the magic to take a picture? Nah. Unlikely. She'd tried taking a picture of Mouse a while ago when he'd gotten into Harry's shaving cream (and he had looked _so_ adorable...) and he had come out a gray-and-white blur in the center. Something so drenched in magic like the duster would probably just kill an already crappy disposable camera. Mental sad-face.

After glancing nervously over her shoulder she made for the shield bracelet resting on the small table in Harry's bedroom. There was a small static pop as she touched it. Molly supposed that was from the fact that it was made of metal and not from some kind of confusion over magical energies. She hoped not...because that could be bad. But Master Harry had told her at one point that his focuses wouldn't explode on her if she touched them. Wearing it for a couple minutes couldn't do any harm.

She slid the bracelet on and looked at it on her wrist. Which wasn't quite as cool or spectacular as putting on the duster. It crossed her mind that Harry must have had pretty girly wrists if the shield bracelet wasn't sliding off; that was the single most interesting thought she had while she was putting the focus. She'd worn heavier pieces of metal on her nose.

Next up on the list as she was digging through the duffel bag was...lint and...Good golly, when was the last time he'd cleaned this thing out? The next thing she pulled out was the petrified remains of an apple. Ew. She held it at an arm's length on the long journey to the trashcan in the kitchen. When it was the wastebasket's problem, she returned to Harry's room to see what other kinds of things she could dig out of "Master-Harry's-Super-Special-Wizard-Utility-Belt-Yes-That-is-the-Technical-Term-Bag".

...An old grocery list...

...Some cashews...

...Some salt (which Molly put in the pocket of the duster that Harry's gun usually went into for the sake of realism).

...Some chalk...

...A golf ball...

...And Harry's gun...

Looking over her shoulder to make sure Harry hadn't come back yet. Probably nothing to worry about, chances were she'd be able to hear him when he came though that bent iron door of his.

She picked the heavy weapon up and checked to see if it had a bullet in the chamber or not. Because she knew enough to know that it would be dangerous to play with if it had a bullet in the chamber. Molly felt rather cool, standing there in THE long coat and with a .44 magnum in her hand. Kinda like one of those _anime_ girls that were always toting around the disproportionately sized guns.

She grinned even wider when she thought of what her mom would say with regards to this. This was closely followed by an amusing image of Charity Carpenter poking Harry Dresden in the chest and threatening to stab him repeatedly with a #2 pencil if he ever let Molly touch his gun again.

Maybe she would try to take that picture. If she took a lot eventually one would turn out well enough to show Charity the hazards that big, bad Harry Dresden was putting her eldest through.

Molly smiled. What was usually next on Harry's schedule after he put on the duster, focuses, and gun? Oh that's right, cornering the bad guy. Her smile quickly turned into a smug, exaggerated grin as she lowered the gun at Harry's couch.

"All right vampire," she said in her best "Dresden" voice. "Tell me where..." Oh crap. She forgot she needed a possible love interest in distress. "Tell me where Carlos Ramirez is and I _might_ let you keep your more valuable parts. You know, because I'm just a nice kind of gal."

The couch/vampire wasn't talking.

Time to get rough? Yeah, Harry would have gotten rough right about then.

She pulled the blasting rod out of the special holster Harry had made for it, and leveled it at the couch as well. Molly hoped the smile she pulled was a crocodilian one. "Playing tough? You know what I do to vamps that don't play nice with me? I roast 'em like luau pork."

The couch/vamp wasn't playing nice. It was going to let Carlos stay in the evil clutches of the Red Court. Come nightfall, their noble could turn him into one of their slobbering, bat-like numbers. They would change him into something ancient and powerful that hated the White Council. He would give away his important...warden information to the Red Court and the relative peace the White Council had enjoyed in the last year would be gone. Thousands would die.

Molly Dresden couldn't let that happen.

In the imitation of a flash of rage she slammed one of her combat boots onto the couch, right where vampire genitalia would have been. "Tell me..." she went into a long explanation of what she would do to him, one that was most likely physically impossible for someone of her size and muscle mass.

The vampire broke down after she got to "skin you alive and feed it to you". Carlos was in a massive fortress in the deepest part of Undertown. It had been built by faeries centuries ago, but the vampires had been restoring it for their court's use since the 60s. Thousands of the Red Court's finest warriors were guarding it, preparing a massive invasion of Chicago and the continental United States.

Molly Dresden had been wrong. It wasn't bad; it was worse.

That was when the vampire lunged for her. The rubbery material they used to cover their nature tearing apart like the _Incredible Hulk's_ shirt. All that was left was the wretched, bat-like creature with muscles that could bench press her Clown Car...er...Blue Beetle.

She'd been perfectly willing to let the vampire live. People, things even, that cooperated with the good guys weren't supposed to be roasted. Good guys didn't do that. (Insert here long rant about how magic was only supposed to be used for good, and if the good guys didn't use it for good then who would...blah blah blah...)

Molly brought the blasting rod up to face-level with the monster lunging at her in slow motion through empty space.

And the actual Harry Dresden called out, "Molly! I'm back!"

She panicked, half startled and half terrified that he would see her like she was. A jolt of adrenaline shot through her chest and an accidental smattering of power sprang up from that place deep inside her. Unfortunately, this accidental release of magic flowed up through her chest and arm...

...and out through the blasting rod.

Normally she didn't have the strength or control to call forth something even remotely tangible. Her talents rested mostly with regards to illusions and psychomancy. However, the blasting rod was a focus. Not just any focus, but a focus that had been used for _one_ purpose for _years_. She would remember later that that kind of continuous use made it far easier to _use_. Involuntarily, the blasting rod gathered heat from the air around it. The illuminating candles burning around her snuffed out like a crowd doing the wave at a Cubs game. A small lance of fire shot out the end of the blasting rod, turning the couch into a blazing light source.

Oh...shitohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit!!!

"Harry!" She called as the fire quickly spread and consumed the entire couch. The flames were licking at the ceiling. To make matters worse black smoke was billowing upwards. She staggered towards the door, coughing violently. Between her pulling and Harry's pushing they managed to get the piece of junk open before she suffocated. Molly knew she must have been quite a sight, stumbling out in his duster and holding his stuff. But he didn't seem to care; all he saw was smoke coming from his apartment and that was his primary concern. He dashed inside to where she knew the fire extinguisher was.

"THE COUCH!" She yelled after him for the sake of her teacher not choking to death before he found the source of the flame. It was getting pretty murky in there. While she waited for him, she leaned on Mouse and coughed the soot out. She was some parts relieved to hear the 'whoosh' noise of foam smothering the inferno where it had started...she was also some parts terrified, as that meant that Harry had time to worry about _her_ and what she'd _done_.

She knew The Almighty did things for her father when he asked nicely enough. Maybe if she begged the Good Lord he would be kind enough to smite her before Harry found out what she'd been doing? Not that she was worried about him being angry. Master Harry had been angry with her plenty of times, and she'd lived through it. No. It was the embarrassment and never-ending jokes that she wanted to prevent.

A minute passed. No bolt of lightning. No large object falling from the sky. No angels descending and telling her that her time was up. Nada. Perhaps she should have done more Hail Marys when she was younger.

So...Molly just sat on the staircase leading to the apartment and hugged the coat tighter around herself to keep the winter chill off.

Harry came out and sat next to her.

"So...y'wanna tell me what happened?" He didn't sound angry, but with him that could be deceiving.

She sighed. "Yessir..."

"Good Molly. Start at the beginning. Like, why the hell are you wearing my coat?"

She told him. Everything.

Harry grunted an affirmative as he tossed it over in his mind. "Why are you _still_ wearing my coat?"

"It's cold."

"Ah," he said, "Right. That." He gave her a sidelong glance. "A vampire fortress in Undertown? You _really_ shouldn't joke like that. And _Ramirez_? Hell's bells, Molly, I thought I had better taste than _that_! I'm surprised you didn't make it the sexy half-brother being held bondage-style in the scary castle. If you're going to go through all that trouble to make a good impossible situation then you'd better make sure the reward is _worth it_!"

Molly hugged herself. "You weren't you. I was...Aren't you mad?"

He considered it for a moment. "Nah...I think you've learned your lesson about not touching my crap. And it really _is_ too damn funny for me to be too angry. When my apprentice gives me such wonderful blackmail material how can I be mad?"

"You're still punishing me, aren't you?"

"By Stars and Stones I am. I'm giving you cleaning duty in the lab for a month."

Molly shrugged. "As long as I don't have to pay for the couch."

"Well, that wouldn't be fair. You have no funds of your own and I'm just too nice of a guy to go asking Michael for money." He sounded sagely and reasonable saying it.

Molly returned his sagely-ness. "That reason's good. You're forgetting it would mean you'd have to explain to mom that you left me alone in your apartment with your blasting rod."

"That too."

Leaning back into the staircase, he stared at her, the hard lines of his face suddenly became just a little bit harder. "Jesus...Molly. One thing still bothers me. You were imitating me. Everything from the coat and gun, to the heroic snark everyone loves- nice bit about the luau pork, by the way-you even talked about the right application for magic."

He whirled up to glare at her. "Molly...What I really want to know is why you just _had _to set the damn building on fire!"

VVVVV Fin

AN: Hah! That was such righteous fun! This is really my very first attempt at writing anything for the sole point of humor. Do tell me if I succeeded.


End file.
